Years ago, we lived next door to a cute teen guy named Jeremy; and he was a subject of fascination for me, my sisters, and my brothers.
He would go out on Friday or Saturday nights; and obviously what he would then do would be beyond scrutiny by the kids next door. Still we wondered. But occasionally, he would come home and start to shoot baskets at the goal over the garage. This made him into an occasional nuisance because of the noise from the ball striking the backboard.
It seemed like a strange time for basketball; but no one has ever explained the doings of teen boys to me. I'm more predictable: 12 A.M. is beyond my bedtime.
So I have this problem with his shooting, much less his dribbling; a form of nocturnal activity not welcome to sleepyheads. And I would be irritable the next day.
One day I overheard an exchange between my two brothers: "Jeremy played basketball last night; so he must not have gotten laid." They obviously found it all to be funny; but I could not understand why failures to make a lay up was a matter of long discussion, much less humor. I guess the "up" is not really necessary.
Later on that day, my Tante Marie was visiting my Mama. I was playing nicely in the room, and listening.
Mama goes, "Goodness, Jeremy next door played basketball late last night. I felt like dozing off during the 11 o'clock mass! I don't know what's wrong with that boy playing basketball so late!"
So I say, "It's okay, Mama. Jeremy just didn't get laaa-id last night and he was practicing!"
Mama was concerned; and asked where I got that notion from. I said it was sumthin' my brothers were saying having to do with basketball.
So later on, I overheard her telling my brother about little pictures having big ears. I never saw any pictures with bunny ears or squirrel ears or even donkey ears. Adults just don't make any sense at times! Or I don't notice things like I should . . . .
1 hour ago